


my lips, your poison

by strayarrows



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, Sub Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strayarrows/pseuds/strayarrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis fucked up, and Harry's not going to let him get away with it without repercussions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my lips, your poison

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harrysprostate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysprostate/gifts).



> Writers block will be the bane of my existence. I would've had this completed sooner but I could not get passed the block for weeks. But alas, I got past the damned writers block and here it is! I did get a bit carried away but I couldn't control myself. S/O to Alexis for the fantastic idea in the first place, without that, this never would've gotten written.

Louis really fucked up this time.

Usually, he can get away with pretty much anything and Harry will get pissed, yeah, but his temper never lasts. He’s too sweet to hold personal grudges. And 'sides, all Louis usually does is get really drunk, and make a total ass out of himself.

This time is different.

You see, Louis likes to go out and have drinks with his friends on weekends. He’ll stay at the pub for hours with Zayn until they’re both piss drunk and hardly able to walk a straight line. And Harry’s usually fine with that since Louis works so hard on the weekdays while he’s home playing housewife.

Well…

Louis may or may not have gotten carried away one night and “accidentally” made out with a complete stranger he’d met in the pub. Okay. It’s not like it was intentional, he would never  _purposely_  do something like this to Harry. He couldn’t bear the thought of cheating on sweet little Harry. Not when that boy’s been loyal to him since day one.

He was  _drunk_. Not a very good excuse, yes, but it was the honest to God’s truth. His judgment was clouded and when he gets to drinking he tends to be a lot more… flirty especially when Harry’s not with him. Harry usually keeps him in line when they go out but he neglected to tag along. The bloke he’d snogged wasn’t even the  _least_  bit attractive now that he thought about it.

Louis was royally and truly fucked.

Of course he was planning to tell Harry this, though he knew the poor boy was going to be devastated and probably end up in tears. But, he’s confident Harry would forgive him for this little screw up and everything will go back to normal and they’ll carry on as though nothing happened.

He was so very wrong.

That same night, he stumbles into their flat, the stench of alcohol radiated from his skin like heat. He throws his keys into the glass bowl near the front door and staggers into the main room. “Honey I’m home!” He shouts drunkenly, bursting into obnoxious laughter which bounces off the walls and echoes back.

He pokes his head around the corner leading into the living room and finds a fire crackling in the electric fire place. But no one’s in there.

“Harry?” He calls, frowning.

“Bedroom,”

 _Oh shit._ He sounds pissed. He couldn’t have found out could he? Zayn isn’t one to run his mouth. Had Harry gone to the pub and hidden in the back? 

Louis shouldn’t be panicking like this, who knows, maybe Harry’s just pressed he hasn’t called him once this evening. Why was he jumping to such irrational conclusions so quickly?

In their bedroom, Harry sits on the floor at the edge of their bed, his long legs folded beneath him. He’s staring blankly at his hands in his lap. Louis can see from his reflection that his eyes are cold, hard like emeralds.

His entire demeanor was off.

Louis knows he’s in deep shit. “Look, baby,” He drops to his knees, “M’sorry I didn’t call—“

Harry cuts him off, when he speaks its sharp and dripping with poison, “You think I’m pissed cos you didn’t  _call?_ ”

Louis’ eyebrows pull together in confusion. He tries to crawl towards him but Harry just scoots away. “Well… yeah.”

He snorts, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “Are you  _that_  thick?”

His mouth opens and closes, no words come out. He’s speechless. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t even know what Harry was getting at with this.

“Niall called me,” He starts, back turned completely to Louis. “Told me he saw you and Zayn down at the pub,”

Well.

Here it comes.

“And,” He sighs, drawing it out, only adding to Louis’ suspense. “He told me he’d seen you snogging someone else. Rather… inappropriately, if I might add,”

Fucking Niall, the bastard, always running his mouth to Harry; Louis hadn’t even seen Niall’s familiar shock of blonde hair when he and Zayn arrived to the pub, fucker must’ve been in the back snooping Louis out, waiting for him to fuck up. Fuck.

“Baby, no, please,” He hated to beg, but Harry was genuinely  _pissed._ He’s never seen Harry this mad before. He didn’t have a clue as to how he was even going to get out of this mess. Hence the begging, “I-I was drunk and stupid. I didn’t mean to—”

Harry was completely disregarding him. “You know what?” He turns this time, meeting Louis’ bloodshot eyes with his sharp jade stare. “I don’t want to hear any of it.”

“Please, let me just make it up to you—” He paws anxiously at the boys shirt, trying to slip his hands beneath the helm.

Harry pushes him off, so he falls back on his ass. “No. Sex isn’t going to fix this one Louis,”

“No?”

“No.” He says with finality. “I think,” He taps his chin, voice gone smug. “Since Daddy fucked up, I’m going to make Daddy pay for it.”

“What can I do to fix this, there has to be something I can do." His voice had gone desperate and even to himself he sounded quite pathetic. But having Harry disregard him without even hearing him out, brought out the worst in him.

"Nothing, there's nothing you can do." Harry says with the shake his head, pushing a stray curly tendril away that had fallen in his eyes. “Safe to say, Daddy doesn’t get to touch Baby for a very,  _very_ long time.”

As Louis opens his mouth to protest, Harry holds up his hand, silencing him before he can even speak. “Also,” He continues, “You know Baby’s favorite pair of panties? The lacy pink ones with white trim?” He waits for Louis to catch on. He does, his mouth gone bone dry. “Well, Baby’s tired of wearing them.”

 “Yeah?” Louis chokes out, blood whooshing loudly behind his ears. There were so many mixed messages Louis’ head was starting to spin. He wasn’t sure if this was a punishment of some sorts, or an early birthday present.

 “That’s right,” He gets to his feet, leaving Louis on the floor. “From here on out, it’s just going to be nothing but short,  _short,_ skirts.”

 Saliva pools in his mouth, he has to swallow before he can speak. “God, Baby,  _please._ ”

 As he tries to reach for him, Harry manages to side step him, “ _No_ touching.” He snaps, stalking off leaving Louis a disgruntled mess on the floor.

*

Harry stuck to his word.

Every night, after Louis got off work, he’d come home to find the boy completely naked parading about the flat in nothing but a soft pink skirt and each time he bent over Louis could see _every_ thing, and each time he'd caught Louis staring he would flash the most innocent smile he could muster and head off into another room humming tunelessly to himself.

And each time Louis made a grab at him, he’d find a way around. He was a stubborn little shit and seemed to thrive off tormenting Louis, no matter how many times he apologized.

For example, when Louis was sitting on their leather sofa in the living room, sorting out mortgages and payments, Harry saunters into the room—whilst making his presence very much known—and plops down beside Louis, but far enough away so Louis can’t try and attack him. Louis tries, and oh how he  _tries_ , to ignore the boy who’s now adjusting his thigh highs, showing off his smooth milky white thighs that Louis wanted to decorate with bruises and stubble burns. He huffs under his breath, distressed.

“Everything okay Daddy?” He asks, ever so innocently, now toying with the helm of his little skirt.

“Fine,” He mutters, clicking and unclicking his pen furiously. He was clearly not fine and Harry knew it.

“You know,” Harry’s suddenly pressed against his side, nosing his hair, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “You don’t have to lie.”

His skin flushes, irritation spikes. It’s wearing on him, his patience is deteriorating greatly. If Harry kept this up Louis might completely come unglued. He grounds his teeth together and focuses his attention elsewhere while Harry rubs against him like a needy little kitten desperate for attention.

“Don’t you want to touch me Daddy?” He murmurs, one hand reaching out to palm at Louis’ half hard erection.

Louis reacts this time, he grabs Harry by the wrist roughly and Louis can’t deny the satisfaction he feels when Harry let’s out an unexpected breathless cry, his doe eyes growing wide with fear. He’s done for and he seems to know that.

“You are just asking for me to punish you.” He warns voice dangerously low. “You and I both know you can only keep this little charade up for so long.”

Louis let’s Harry’s wrist go and watches as he pushes himself off the couch and stalks off muttering about Louis being a pretentious asshole under his breath.

*

The tables had finally turned.

Louis knew he had regained the upper hand, but he wasn’t about to go on and boast about it, thus making him into a bigger dickhead than he already was.

Harry kept up his little charade and Louis just went about ignoring him.

Two could play at this game.

Harry having lost his reign of power over Louis had made him more vulnerable, which made it easier for Louis to slowly start creeping back into his good graces.

One day in particular he manages to get a hold on Harry and it was almost as though he had _wanted_ him to. As if he knew he was no longer the one in control here.

He’d cornered him in their bedroom, and pushed him roughly against the wall, pining his hands down so he couldn’t try to pry Louis off.

“Tell me something,” Louis starts, tracing the mirroring swallow tattoos on his chest with the tip of his tongue. Harry does a sharp intake of breath through his nose. “You were never mad at me were you?” He places a soft kiss on his moth tattoo in the center of his upper abdomen. A soft moan falls from the boy’s parted lips.

“Talk to me Harry,” Louis demands, slowly sinking to his knees. “I need words, not sounds.”

“I-I…” he stammers, as Louis spreads his legs apart. “I was,” He swallows audibly while Louis starts to trail heated kisses up his inner thigh. “Pretty mad at you but…” His voice falters away and he’s left panting.

Louis stops, cocking his head to the side. “But..?”

Harry whines, disgruntled. “Why’d you stop?”

Eager as always, Louis chuckles. “I’m not going to continue until you finish that sentence.”

“But, fuck,” He sputters. “I-I just wanted you to… to…” His voice trails off, following a string of broken needy whimpers.

“You just wanted me to fuck you like this?” He offers, tugging at the little skirt. “Put you in your place? Show you who you belong to? Is that it?”

“Something like that.” He admits breathlessly. “I just… I wanted you to get mad enough so you would…” He pauses as Louis starts to suck on his thigh, biting hungrily at the pale flesh until its flushed red with an undertone of purple and blue forming beneath the skin. He kisses the bruise and switches to the other side.

“Continue.” Louis says as he repeats the process, this time dragging it out, making sure to leave bruises all over his pale skin, bruises that would last for weeks. Precious little reminders so Harry knows never to make the same mistake Louis made.

Harry groans, frustrated. “I just wanted you to fuck me senseless.” It comes out forced and rushed, like he’s trying to maintain a grip on himself when Louis knows very well he’s already on the verge of falling apart at his touch.

Louis pulls away and gets back to his feet. Harry’s face is flushed bright red, eyes dilated, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He grabs the boy roughly by his chin. “Tonight,” He murmurs. “I promise.” He lets his chin go and dips his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s little skirt. “I don’t want you wearing this though. Just your thigh highs,”

“Okay.” He nods obediently.

“Okay what?”

“Okay Daddy.” Harry quickly corrects, eyeing Louis nervously.

He smiles approvingly and gives the boy a hard smack on his ass. Harry lets out a cross between a cry and a moan. Louis bites back the sly smile dancing on his lips. “Off with you, I need to take a nap.”

He nods, pushing a stray curly tendril that falls in his eyes, quickly skirting out of their room to leave Louis to his rest.

 

When Louis wakes, he’s groggy and disoriented. The door’s cracked, a thin stream of orange yellow light pouring in from the main room. Its pitch black outside, no moon, no stars, all that can be heard are the soft hums of the cars and buses that pass on the street. He rolls out of bed, stretches until his joints pop and the flow of blood returns to his muscles.

He can hear hushed straggled moans coming from the living room. He expects the worst, and suddenly his vision’s bled red. If his suspicions are right and Harry’s fucking about in their flat, it was all downhill from here…

“What the fuck are you…” His voice wavers, anger diminishing with the blink of an eye.

Harry’s on the sofa, wearing only a pair of black thigh highs with little red ribbons, and Louis can see streaks of come all over his belly. The boy is flushed, his eyes blown wide and glassy, lips deep ruby red, curls in a tangled disheveled mess on his head. Sweat is trickling down his temples. He had his hand wrapped around his cock.

“Harry.” It comes out stressed and through unmoving lips.

Tears are rolling down his round cheeks; he looks up at Louis through his tear soaked eyelashes and knows he’s in trouble. “Punish me Daddy. Please, I’ve been such a naughty boy. _Please._ ” He cries, reaching out for Louis, fingers twitching anxiously.

“Go clean yourself off, you’re a mess.” He says swatting his hands away, making a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “Then wait for me in the bedroom. You’re in trouble.”

Harry lets out an obscenely loud moan and staggers off the couch to the bathroom, stumbling over his feet.

Louis wrings his hands together heads out to the kitchen and brews himself some tea. This was his strong suit: punishment. He could feel his palm twitch, anxious and eager to leave bright red handprints all over Harry’s pale little bottom. Putting him in his place is what he’s been waiting for since Harry started parading around the flat in just a skirt to get a rise out of Louis.

He takes his time with his tea, taking sips here and there whilst flipping aimlessly through the channels on their built in plasma television; he wants Harry to be nothing more than a needy flustered mess, begging for Louis’ cock, begging for punishment. He wants Harry to feel what he felt when he’d neglected him.

As cruel as that may of sounded, that’s just how it worked in their relationship. It was just how they were. The better the punishment, the greater the sex, and that’s the way Louis saw it.

He finishes his tea, washes out the kettle and his mug and flips off the telly before heading back into their bedroom.

Just like the good little boy he was, Harry’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands resting in his lap, eyes casted downward like a child that’s been scolded by their parents for getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

He doesn’t dare look up at Louis when Louis approaches, feeling as though he had no right. Louis respected that. But he wanted him to look at him, he wanted to _see_ how eager and ready he was to take his punishment.

Louis wraps his hand around the back of Harry’s neck and grabs a fist full of curls and lifts his head so he’s looking up at Louis with glassy jade eyes. “Listen to me carefully,” He tightens his fist when Harry starts to look away. “Don’t look away Harry, that’s not polite.”

“M’sorry.” He mumbles glumly, blinking away the fresh tears budding at the corners of his eyes.

He waves his apology away and continues where he left off. “I want you to lay across my lap, on your stomach. I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit down for _days._ ” He releases his hold on Harry’s hair and goes to his side of the bed and sits down, resting back on his hands.

Harry follows and lays himself out over Louis’ lap. He feels his palm twitch anxiously again.

“You’ve been very bad Harry,” He says with a sigh, giving his left cheek a soft pat. “Making Daddy beg and make a fool of himself,” With no warning he swings, the loud smack of skin on skin filling the quiet of the room. Harry cries out.

Louis can already see the handprint forming on his plush ass. And he was only _just_ getting started. “Keep quiet.” He snaps, bringing his hand down again, his palm faintly stung.

Harry cries out again, body writhing from the repercussions.

“I said keep quiet!” He spanks him again, this time hard enough Louis himself feels it.

The boy only grunts this time, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Louis pats Harry’s reddened handprinted cheek and tells him to switch positions.

The red in contrast to his pale skin was astonishing, it was bright and vivid and _angry_.

He gives his right cheek a squeeze, earning a sound of eagerness from the back of the younger boys’ throat. “I’m not finished yet, I don’t know why you’re getting so eager.” He smacks his ass twice in a row without stopping and grins while the pale flesh changes from pink to red. “Relax baby.” He runs his fingers along the slope of his spine, kneading the tension in his lower back.

He whines, though it’s muffled, having buried his head in his folded arms.

Louis gives him two more rough harsh slaps then tells him to get off. “How do you feel?” He asks, only half interested.

Harry winces as he stands, his entire stance looked uncomfortable. Good. “M’really sore Daddy.”

“Can you sit down?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Try.” He pats the spot next to himself, invitingly.

Harry wobbles to the edge of the bed and with a sharp gasp of breath sits down, his face contorted in pain.

Louis just pats his thigh. “Good boy.” Then jumps to his feet and walks over to the dresser with the mirror and opens the drawer which they kept all their dildos, vibrators, cock rings, blindfolds, and handcuffs and retrieves a bottle of lube and a condom. “This is the fun part.” He says, tearing open the wrapper of the condom.

Harry’s watching with curious eyes while Louis undresses himself until he’s completely naked and keeps watching, the curiosity turning into hunger as Louis rolls the condom down his length and coats it with lube.

“A-Are you going to fuck me now Daddy?” He asks, licking his lips.

“Don’t ask stupid questions Harry.” He rolls his eyes. “Now, I want you to face the mirror. I want you to look at yourself while I’m fucking you. Got it?”

He nods, crawling to the center of the bed, remains on all fours and bears himself to Louis.

Louis takes his place behind Harry, nothing how tight his little pink hole was. He tuts, “You’re tight,” He brings the head of his cock to Harry’s rim and watches his reflection. His face is contorted, brow furrowed, lip caught between his bottom lip, a vein sticking out prominently in his neck. “Going to have to change that now won’t we?”

“Please Daddy. I need your cock. Need it so bad.” He whimpers, burying his face into the mattress.

Louis reaches forward and grabs the back of his hair, pulling on it roughly. “I want you to look at yourself.” He snaps, keeping his fist clenched in his hair so he doesn’t try to look away again.

With his other hand now resting on his hip he thrusts himself inside, Harry spits off profanities and filthy little moans in return. “Still too tight,” Louis shakes his head, bucks his hips and thrusts again, harder this time. Harry’s walls still clench up around his cock. “Fucking hell,” He swears.

“Keep going Daddy, don’t stop please. I need it so bad.” He weeps, Louis glances up through his lashes to see Harry crying judging by his reflection, there are tears streaming down his face at a steady pace.

Louis thrusts roughly once, twice, three times before opening Harry wide, nearly splitting him in half. He clenches his teeth and flips Harry onto his back, still buried inside of him. “Keep your eyes on me.” He grunts, “Look at me while I fuck you.”

His thrusts start getting sloppy and rapid, the muscles in his thighs are screaming in protest and he’s nearly out of breath. He starts slowing his pace, now leaning down to nip and lick and suck at Harry’s neck and collarbones. He licks a stripe up over his Adam’s apple, nearly coming just from the sounds Harry makes as he’s being marked. He purrs, baring his throat so Louis has easier access. “Mine.” He growls into his flushed skin. “Always mine,” He bites the vein in his neck, then sucks the tender spot, flecks the tip of his tongue across it and pulls back, watching the bruise start to form.

“Always yours,” Harry echoes, voice rough and scratchy.

Louis comes inside of Harry as those two words fall from the boy’s lips, he buries his face into Harry’s purple and blue speckled neck, crying out into his hair as he breaks apart and unravels inside of him.

When he’s finished he pulls out and collapses on top of Harry’s broad sweaty chest, body ridden with exhaustion.

Harry takes one of his hands and reaches up to wrap his hand around the nape of Louis’ neck, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “M’so tired,” He mumbles. “You wear me out.”

“I could say the same. I’m not going to be able to sit properly for days.”

“You deserved that.”

“I know, I know.” He trails his hand down to Louis’ lower back. “I’ll give you a morning blowjob tomorrow. ‘Kay?”

“Sounds perfect,” Louis kisses one of the sparrows and melts against his chest.

“I should piss you off more often.” Harry jokes, cackling.

“Fine, just don’t even think about going out and snogging with random strangers.” He warns. “Or you won’t be able to sit for a month.”

“Promise?” He asks, a light shuddering rupturing through his body.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fine, yeah, I promise. Weirdo.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

“Anything for you baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Especially Alexis who's been begging for this to be written for ages, sorry it took me so long. It's a corny ending but I couldn't come up with anything better. Come find me on twitter! (begsharry) as always, leave me nice things please!


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